The phrase, ‘The recording was done to 4 track cassette tape using a Tascam Portastudio 7’ is always going to pique my interest and Stopping Distance is no exception: this e.p by Buí is an absolute beauty – the sort of understated, intimate thing that immediately draws you into its subdued, sensitive, homespun song craft. What is immediately clear is just how sonically enveloping it is – a foggy drift of subtle melodies and hushed, double-tracked vocals that deliver a potent, emotive impact and reflective, considered precision.
Belfast-based Buí is the recording project of songwriter Josh Healy joined by a gathering of friends to further enrich his indie-folk explorations – including (but not limited to) permanent band members Eoin Johnson, Adam Sloan and Ronan McQuillan and Amy Nolan. Written in an intense week in May, Healy has since described the darkness of his feelings at the time of creation: ‘Sometimes when things are bad it still feels like there’ll be light at the end of the tunnel and that things will get better, at other times it doesn’t feel like that. These songs were written at a point when the latter was very much true for me…’ Well, rest assured the world is most certainly better for having these songs in it. There is always hope.
The words across Stopping Distance are contemplative, impactful and filled with yearning but have no need for overt poeticisms- these are songs that require no excess frills- the same being true of the instrumentation. There are moments of pure folk-clothed wonder – the final track Turn for example delivers elegant and gracefully shaped fingerpicking. What I love most though are the curious additional sounds – secretive moments of mellotron-evoking keys whose notes soften but also surprise and what sounds like naive, massed recorders piping in from a 1960s Primary School hall. It’s magnificent.
Reset has a driving but understated rhythm to it, propelled by a cyclical piano line that quietly hypnotises. As soon as Josh Healy begins singing the whole thing takes on a lofi intimacy that is central to Bui’s sound world – confessional but never emotionally trite – and never not beautiful- the melody of the chorus filled with an aching sense of longing.
“…everyone wants to feel like they’re doing something right
everyone wants to feel like they’re loved sometimes”
Slow-paced and melodious, Static has a darkness cloaking its narcotic lull but its pain-propelled pulchritude wraps a warm embrace around a tired mind nevertheless. Cycle toys with experimental piano minimalism before delivering a whirring transcendent instrumental mood piece. The final song Turn is the highlight for me – strangely reminding me of the more stripped-back, tender, acoustic moments on Half Cousin’s debut – where a sort of rustic isolation brings new life to lived-in atmospheres. It’s such a comfort to spend time with these songs.
Stopping Distance is a small parcel of joy in an oft-troubling world – show it a little love… After all, everyone wants to feel like they’re loved sometimes…
Written by M.A Welsh (Misophone)